Stop bullying England, that's my job!
by Stolen Key
Summary: France is bullying England and Ireland steps in to stop it. As it's the first time France meets Ireland he is in for a shock and he is not expecting Ireland to be so unique. Rated M for some swearing, nothing much really and a bit of fluff


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters except for my OCs Ireland and Scotland**

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England was out of breath his short legs were not going to carry him for much longer and he knew he needed to find a hiding place or better still one of the many traps he had set out. Twisting through the trees and branches he could hear his pursuer behind him calling out for him to stop. He couldn't though; he knew what would happen if he was caught and the thought made his stomach turn. He had to keep running to either escape or trap the teenage boy who was now horrifyingly close. Throwing himself around a large oak tree he found a pond, excellent he thought. This was one of the many areas that he had rigged with traps, he dived into a hole in a tree and waited until the teenager came into sight. England was crouched low and could only see the boys feet as he slowed to a walk and wandered around the pond. England silently egged the boy towards a snare he had hidden not far from where he was hidden. Closer, closer England thought holding his breath and excitedly awaiting his chance to laugh at the boy and mock him for being stupid. Suddenly the boy stopped and crouched down picking up something from the ground, a scrap of dark green material. Scanning the ground for more clues the boy let his hand fall on a footprint, following them he moved, slowly edging towards Englands hiding place. England was now panicking, his breath hitching in his chest and his emerald eyes wide with fear as he pulled his cloak closer around him.

"Come out mon petit lapin," the boy sung in a sickly sweet French accent, mirth playing on every note. "There is no point in hiding now while I am here to rescue you from this dreary place, so why don't you come out and give me a hug, or better still a kiss?"

England remained frozen, his mind raced on how to get out of there. He was trapped but he knew he was going to have to move eventually. Pulling himself together he formed a rough outline of a plan in his mind, he had to run and get out of the area as fast as he could. Once past the pond and in the denser trees beyond it the fairies would stop any unwelcome intruders and he would be safe. Yes, he thought this could work. Without any hesitation he bolted from the hole and out into the open, quick to notice him the boy turned and stuck his foot in Englands way causing England to trip and fall into the pond cutting his leg on a tree root. Cursing England pulled himself up and tried running, but the wound on his leg was bad and he fell once again into the water. He lifted his leg up to inspect the cut and slapped the water when he realised how bad it actually was, his entire knee had been cut open and blood was pouring out of it. Ripping his cloak he tied a bit around his knee to stop the bleeding. All the while the boy stood back grinning gleefully at England, his bright blue eyes alight and his golden shoulder length hair played gently in the light breeze. He held his detailed blue cloak close to him to protect himself from the chill that hung in the air. "If you need any help my darling I would be happy to oblige," he teased knowing exactly how England would react. "Shut up you frog!" England spat back at him, "Why are you even here France and why can't you leave me alone?"

"Ah you wound me Angleterre! How can you be so cruel when all I want is to help?" France proclaimed feigning offense. He held his hands up in a surrender motion yet he continued grinning, it might have been mean but he enjoyed teasing England and knew exactly how to get the reactions he wanted from the small nation. "I'm being cruel?" England screamed at him, now seriously losing his patience. He needed to get his wound treated quickly and he knew France was not going to let him away easily. Breathing heavily he started wading through the water towards France, his fists curled up into balls. If France was insistent on annoying him then he should be ready for a fight England thought. "You bloody frog come into my land, you try and do things to me and then when I run away you chase me. How am I cruel?" he growled his eyes now alight with anger, his wound almost completely forgotten. France grinned at the challenge, it had been too long since they had a good fight. Suddenly an arrow whipped through the air and lodged itself firmly in the tree beside France' head. Spinning France grew pale when he noticed how close the arrow came to hitting him. His eyes wide with fear as he looked around for the archer who shot at him, nothing. He could only see darkness in the trees surrounding him and he felt fear creep up his spine. Another arrow shot past him and lodged itself in the tree beside the other arrow, although this one was much closer to France and had only missed him by mere millimetres as he had felt the feather on the fletching brush his cheek. Yelping he tried running away but only ran straight into a tree knocking himself unconscious. England remained were he stood in the pond slowly looking around and trying not to laugh at France. He knew of only a few people who could traverse his forest with such ease as the archer could and only one who was that good at archery. Ireland.

"The frog is out cold now, so it's safe for you to come down," he called. A branch rustled above him and a red headed girl around twelve appeared from the foliage. She wore a simple pair of tan trousers and a loose long sleeved top with delicate Celtic embroidery sewn into it. Her eyes were like green pastures that lit up once the saw the boys unconscious form near the tree. She swung herself gracefully down from the trees and after a brief stop on one of the lower branches did a back flip onto the ground calling for the invisible crowd to stop cheering. "Show off," England scoffed thoroughly annoyed at Irelands presence, "So why are you here then?" Ignoring him Ireland looked around and eventually her eyes fell on a stump opposite from both England and France, to which she promptly ran to and sat down, notching an arrow in her bow she looked up at England and smiled. "Can a girl not visit her good friend?" Ireland asked, her voice bubbling with joy. If England didn't know her better he would have sworn she was genuine and did not mean him any harm, but because he did he stepped back afraid of what she intended to do the with arrow. "If it's you then no she can't, you never appear to just say hello," England retorted trying to fight back the fear rising in the back of his mind. "Lad, how long have we known each other now? And ya still can't trust me, sure that's not a good sign. If ya relaxed a wee bit and learnt to laugh more, we'll get along grand. Now won't we?" Ireland told him, her smile never faltering. England was about to answer when a grunt came from behind him, spinning around he noticed that France was awake and was slowly making his way to his feet. Ireland watched him curiously trying to gather her thoughts on the newcomer.

Looking up France let his gaze land on Ireland, smiling he straightened out his clothes and took a step forward "Bonjour, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am your knight in shining armour and you my fair lady are stunning," he said with practiced ease. "Hold it right there lass, I don't want to hurt you but if you do anything stupid I will have to. You understand?" she warned him lifting her bow and the arrow up to aim at his chest. France stopped dead in his tracks, blinking he suddenly realised he was called a lass. "E-e-excuse moi, I-I am no 'lass' and who might you be?" he stuttered eyes wide open with shock. At this England broke into a fit of laughter and almost collapsed back into the pond. "Fr-fra-francine, allow me to introduce you t-to Ireland," he laughed, now clutching his side and gasping for air. Ireland looked at England wondering why he was laughing so hard but shrugged before pulling back the string on her bow to keep this 'Francine' at bay.

"Really, not a girl then?" she asked.

"Yes I am no woman, nor am I "Francine" I am the proud nation of France and a man," France exclaimed puffing his chest up proudly.

"Well why do you have long hair then?" Ireland questioned, confusion now very evident on her face. "And why do you wear such feminine clothes?"

"What? I do not wear feminine clothes and my hair is not long it is fashionable!" France pouted now getting annoyed and a red blush moving up his cheeks, never had he been so embarrassed and this Ireland had no idea how much she was insulting him. He glanced over at England who had just lost control of his legs and had fallen into the water with a loud splash. Not that it appeared England cared though, he was too busy laughing at France.

"Fashionable? But only women care about that, and yes your clothes are very feminine." Ireland told him, now very convinced that France was a woman, "earlier I saw you try and corner England too and try and make him do... stuff. A man would not do that. That is unless you think England is a girl and I'm sorry to tell you he's not, he's a guy." She was looking around everywhere trying to avoid both England's eyes. France blinked at her, completely dumbfounded by what was happening.

"What! You saw me kiss England?" he gasped. France was almost at a loss for words, he had never encountered anyone as strange as this girl before and with that knowledge and her very obvious stealth skills she was dangerous to him. Snapping back to reality England stared at France, planning how to get him to shut up as quickly as possible. Reaching for a branch in the water beside him he picked it up and threw it at Frances head, forcing France to yelp at the contact and glare at England. "You bastard, she might not have know you did that! By the way why in Gods name did you even do that you pervert?" he screamed at France, his face now bright red from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Of course she knew, if she didn't then how would she know that I cornered you?" France retorted trying to keep his anger under control only to have England throw a stone at him. Dodging it he launched himself on England and they clashed in a flurry of fists and heated insults.

Meanwhile Ireland sat back trying to process the information she had just received. This girl Francine or France, whatever she was called kissed England. It left a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach and she wasn't sure she liked it. Forcing her attention back to the two nations fighting she let another arrow loose but this time pinning Frances cloak to the ground and allowing England to escape his grasp. She watched them sit apart from each other on the ground panting slightly and rubbing at bruises that would soon form before getting up and moving closer to France, leaning over him she launched two more arrows into his cloak to ensure he was pinned to the ground. "Actually no, I didn't see you kiss England. Now let me make this clear to you. No one apart from myself and Scotland are allowed to bully England and anyone else who I catch are getting an arrow to the brain or I send Scotland after them, understand?" she threatened, her eyes brimming with anger and hatred. "That is absurd! You were never here to protect him any other time I was here, and it isn't fair you get to decide ..." France cried while trying to struggle free of his cloak but he was cut off by England demanding to know if Ireland really didn't see the kiss. Briefly turning towards him Ireland simply nodded before turning her attention back to France who had started shaking due to fear and the gut wrenching thought of how badly damaged his cloak was.  
"And you girl, I don't know what kind of thrill you get out of making England do that with you but it's sick and so are you. Forcing someone to do that is wrong and you should know better," she growled at him. "For the last time I am not a girl," France shrieked finally getting free from his cloak and scrambling less than elegantly to his feet, "what do I have to do to prove it to you?" England had to look away from France at that moment as he was afraid he was going to burst into laughter again. This was a moment he knew he would hold over France for as long as they would know each other and he wanted to remember every detail. Smiling slightly he had to admire how Ireland was defending him, somehow it felt right and he liked that she was able to put France in his place so easily, although he was a bit worried about why Ireland thought France was a girl but promptly put those thoughts to the back of his mind. "Prove you are a guy?" Ireland asked softly, "Is it not already very obvious? You have a woman's haircut, you wear woman's clothes, your speech pattern and way of carrying yourself are very effeminate and you kissed England. A man would not do any of those things." France stared at her trying to formulate an answer that she would believe. "As I said before it is not a woman's haircut nor are my clothes women's clothes either. It is called fashion! And finally I like men too as well as women, there is nothing wrong with that!" he sneered, he was more than done with this conversation and was very annoyed someone got to him as badly.

"Don't be insane, God wouldn't allow that! Men should be strong and look like men and most importantly like women" she scoffed clearly thinking she had won the argument. France gobsmacked took a step back, this girl is crazy he thought. Crazy, far too religious and sheltered. He needed to end this and he needed to end it now, thinking quickly he grabbed his belt, loosened it and dropped his trousers wincing slightly at the cool air. Ireland was frozen in place, she was not expecting that and she just stared at France unable to look away until something in the back of her mind snapped and she screamed shielding her eyes. She twisted and turned away from France doubling over and pulling out a set of rosary beads and started praying for France and his soul. Grinning contently France placed his hands on his hips and winking at England who was frozen with disgust when he suddenly felt something hit his head and saw black. As he fell a teenage boy with wild flaming hair stood behind him holding a stick in one hand and glaring down at the unconscious blonde. Stepping over him he grabbed England by the wrist and threw Ireland over his shoulder and led them away. "Thanks for doing that Scotland," England murmured quietly his eyes glued on the ground. "No problem lad, it was the least I could do for my wee brother and my best friend. Speaking of her, what happened? I just heard her scream and came running" he said cheerfully. He noticed Ireland was now silent, probably fell asleep he thought.

"Am, she thought France was a girl and when he pulled down his trousers she went into religious shock," England answered hesitantly still refusing to lift his gaze from the ground but braving a smile at the memory of being protected. Scotland stopped and looked at him for a second before bursting into a fit of laughter and putting Ireland back on the ground, propping her up against a tree. "Sh-she did not, did she?" he asked gasping for air. Chuckling a bit England nodded and spared a look up at the older boy. "That's fucking brilliant! Francey pants is not going to like that at all" Scotland howled throwing his head back and staring the sky, "she really is full of surprises isn't she?" He dropped his head and gazed softly at Ireland, "yea she is something."

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Bit of history in this one. Ireland has always been extremely religious since St Patrick and missionaries were sent from Ireland to other countries from a very early age. As far as I am aware some were even sent to Scotland and were a big part in the conversion there, but I could be wrong. So this is were I got inspiration to have Ireland as being super religious. I personally like the thought of manly men and with the religion being a huge part of Irelands personality I thought it would fit. Thus Ireland thinking France was a girl. On that note Ireland isn't being homophobic, she is just following her religion and in the future she does relax a bit and sees things from a different light. So no offence to anyone if any was taken, I just took a part of Irish culture I noticed that still exists in the older generation and incorporated it into the story.

Reviews would be amazing and please point out any mistakes or anything else you might notice. All feedback is helpful ^^


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